


The Smell of Evil

by LadyBraken



Series: Good Omens One shots [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angle lying, Because it's a sandale and a phone, Cute aziraphale, Fluff, M/M, Sadalphon's name making the author laugh, creepy Sandalphon, for their love buddy, obnoxious angels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-02 06:20:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19193443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBraken/pseuds/LadyBraken
Summary: Thanks to my beta, adlertypewriter!!!





	The Smell of Evil

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my beta, adlertypewriter!!!

“Something smells… Evil.”

 

Sandalphon sniffed around the room. Immediately, Gabriel started to imitate him. Aziraphale’ mind went to full panic because he couldn’t,  _ didn’t know how to _ lie.

Sandalphon turned to the left, ( where Crawley had left his jacket, thrown it over a chair, a few days before. Azi had folded it so it didn’t get all creased).

Then, to the right, in front of him, when in the small sink, Cawley’s mug was still waiting to be washed (it was customised  _ Cute as Hell _ in pretty pointy letters, Aziraphale had bought it in the seventies. Crawley had refused it at first,  _  I am certainly not cute _ , but when Azi had tried to take it back to change it, the demon had clung to it like a cat on a tree). 

Behind Aziraphale, Gabriel was looking at, oh dear, he was looking at  _ the _ couch. The one that was still surrounded by many bottles of wine (had they drunk that much the other night?). The one on which was still the plaid the angel had knitted himself during a particularly cold winter ( _ You come from hell, surely you will catch something by this weather) _ . The one on which the demon always took naps at all hours, randomly, sometimes for entire days ( _ sleep is one of the best inventions of life, Angel. I’ll take full advantage of it. You should try, there’s space for two. _ ). 

Behind it was a small shelf, the only one not full of book but instead filled with small random objects, mostly pretty little treasures.  Dear Crawley had traveled a lot, at some point. 

_ Something smells evil. _

Of course, the angel that had  _ burned down _ an entire city, that had utterly destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah ( a pity, there was such nice people there, and the fruity cake was just exquisite) would smell  _ it _ . 

Of course, while he was standing there, between the Wilde and the Romantic section, where Aziraphale had been so distraught because the neighbourhood cat had died ( _ It was such a precious little thing! _ ), where Crawley had looked at him with  _ That Look _ , where Crowley had put his big, thin, spidery hands and each side of his face and kissed his brow with more softness than Aziraphale had thought possible in any demon, in any man, in  _ anyone _ ( _ It’ll be alright. I’ll make… I’ll make coco. You’ll be better with it, yes? You won’t be sad anymore. Come on. Don’t be sad. _ ), of course it was here that Sadalephon would smell  _ it. _

__ _ Evil. _

__ Aziraphale wanted to say that it wasn’t Evil that he was smelling, that it was something else entirely, something like coffee, cologne, irony, fire and spice, and maybe a thousand other things, but he kept his tongue. 

He didn’t know how to lie. He couldn’t say the truth. 

Aziraphale smiled awkwardly. 

“Oh, that’ll be the Jeffrey Archer books, I’m afraid,” he said. 


End file.
